


Good babysitters are difficult to come by

by HeronRainwater



Series: Blaine Stark 'verse [23]
Category: Glee, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Because he's a tough kid, Blaine really isn't bothered, But gosh he's cute, Ms Carter is absolutely Peggy, Phil is a babysitter, Precious Baby Blaine, Well - Freeform, blaine stark, five year old blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeronRainwater/pseuds/HeronRainwater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You have a child?” Thor asked, head tiled slightly to the side in confusion.<br/>“Yeah, I do. And I swear to God, if that psycho brother of yours lays so much as a finger on my boy, I’ll tear his head off his shoulders, you got that?”</p><p>Loki meets Tony's five year old son. Blaine really isn't that bothered by anything; he's a very blasé child. Well, unless Captain America is concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good babysitters are difficult to come by

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked for Avengers and Loki and "Blaine being, like, five", so I tried my best because baby!blaine.

“Hello there, young man.”

Blaine looked up from his spot on the rug with a frown. His babysitter, Ms Carter, had promised she’d ‘be right back’ and that he was to stay exactly where she’d left him. There wasn’t anyone else in the whole building, and Blaine knew because Jarvis had told him when he’d asked an hour ago if his daddy was back yet. Even so, the person stood just feet away from him very clearly _wasn’t_ Ms Carter.

“Hello,” Blaine replied carefully, clasping his hands together in his lap and watching the man suspiciously, “I don’t think you’re supposed to be here, mister. My daddy doesn’t like people being up here unless he says it’s okay.”

“I see,” The man smiled in response, but it wasn’t the same sort of smile that Aunt Pepper gave him when he helped clean up the living room or that Uncle Rhodey gave him when he came to visit. It was the sort that suggested an _ulterior motive_. At least, that was what the cop shows that Happy sometimes watched would call it.

“I think you should maybe leave please, mister,” Blaine nodded to emphasise his suggestion, “Before Ms Carter comes back because she won’t be happy that you’re here.”

“Oh, Ms Carter won’t be back for a while, I’m afraid,” The man apologised, but Blaine could tell that he didn’t _actually_ sound sorry, “What was your name, young man?”

“Blaine, but I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“Well Blaine,” The man crouched down next to him, “My name is Loki; now we aren’t strangers any more, are we?”

Blaine couldn’t argue with that logic.

*

“Why the fuck would he pull something like that and then just drop off the map?” Tony demanded, circling the table with a bag of blueberries in his right hand.

“Underhand tactics aren’t that far-fetched for him, are they?” Bruce shrugged, “He’s probably plotting something.”

“We’ve got a confirmed location; he’s in California,” Fury added, “God knows why.”

“California?” Tony repeated, “Which part?”

Fury’s face fell momentarily as he realised, regaining composure barely a second later, “Malibu.”

“Shit.”

“Coulson,” Fury turned suddenly, “Send any and all agents we’ve got anywhere near Malibu to-”

“10-8-80 Malibu Point, 90265,” Tony finished, dropping the blueberries on the countertop.

“Why?” Steve frowned, “What’s in Malibu?”

“Who,” Tony corrected, “My kid.”

“You have a child?” Thor asked, head tiled slightly to the side in confusion.

“Yeah, I do. And I swear to God, if that psycho brother of yours lays so much as a finger on my boy, I’ll tear his head off his shoulders, you got that?”

“Nobody’s getting anywhere near him,” Fury insisted, waving Coulson out of the room.

“How old is he? Your son, I mean,” Bruce asked, slipping his glasses into his shirt pocket.

“Blaine’s five,” Tony answered, turning his attention back to the screen, “What the fuck does Loki want with my five year old?”

“He’s baiting us,” Natasha guessed, “You, specifically. He’s trying to draw us out.”

“I knew I should’ve brought him with me,” Tony muttered.

“And what? Left him with a colouring book in the corner?” Fury raised an eyebrow. “A helicarrier is no place for a kindergartner. You couldn’t have seen this coming.”

“I’m his father, I’m supposed to have seen this coming.”

*

“Is this your house?” Blaine wrinkled his nose sceptically. The walls were flaky with damp and the carpets were stained in odd places. A moth-eaten couch was leant against the back wall, facing an empty stand where a television had presumably once sat.

“No, Blaine, this isn’t my house. Sit down there.”

“It doesn’t look very clean.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m five and three sevenths.”

“Aren’t you slightly too young to be worrying about cleanliness?”

“Aunt Pepper says if things aren’t clean they get germy and then they make you sick.”

“If you’d rather sit on the floor, you’re welcome to. You may sit wherever you’d like to, provided you’re a good little boy and you don’t interrupt.”

“Interrupt what?”

“Sit.”

“Okay,” Blaine shrugged, reluctantly perching on the edge of the couch and swinging his legs back and forth, “But interrupt what?”

“I have a small communication matter to deal with,” Loki said, pulling out a phone.

“Why’ve you got a phone? Shouldn’t you have something more… more technical than that? Don’t you have a Jarvis? My daddy’s got Jarvis and Jarvis is really cool and you’re kinda like the evil guys in the movies Happy watches so you should have a Jarvis and not a phone ‘cos-”

“Stop that incessant babbling, you exasperating creature.”

“What does that mean?”

“Be quiet. I have a call to make.”

*

“Incoming transmission, sir,” Coulson said, looking briefly over at Fury, “Audio only, though. Nothing on a trace yet.”

“Open the stream,” Fury instructed.

“I do hope you’re falling over yourselves in your desperate scramble to locate me,” The voice rang out, cold and mocking.

“You son of a bitch,” Tony ground his teeth together, “You’d better not have hurt him.”

“Who?” Loki asked, “Little Blaine? Not at all, Mr Stark. Your son is perfectly fine.”

“Prove it,” Tony demanded, ignoring the pitying looks from the rest of the room, “Let me talk to him.”

“Certainly.” There was a rustling as the phone was presumably passed over; Tony drummed his fingers against the countertop in anticipation.

“Daddy?”

“ _Blaine_ ,” Tony let out a breath, “Blaine, are you okay?”

“I’m okay. What does ‘exasperating’ mean?”

“What?”

“Mister Loki said it and I don’t know what it means. I told him I’m not supposed to talk to strangers, I did, I promise-”

“Okay, buddy, okay, I believe you.”

“But I think I’d maybe really like to go home now please.”

“I know, champ, I’ll get you home.”

“And not home like to Ms Carter, home like home with _you_.”

“I promise.”

“Okay. Mister Loki wants me to give him the phone back now. You’re gonna come and get me though, right?”

“Not much longer, buddy. I’ll see you soon.”

“Kay.” There was static as Blaine handed the phone back. A hand came to rest on Tony’s shoulder; Bruce.

“He’ll be all right,” Bruce murmured so quietly that Tony was barely sure he’d even spoken.

“Now, wasn’t that little display touching?” Loki’s smirk was practically audible.

“I don’t know what you want from me, but taking my son was a step too far. And you’re going to regret it.”

The transmission cut out.

“We’ve got a location,” Natasha said suddenly, drawing all attention back to the screens.

“Coulson, how soon can you get a team out there?” Fury asked.

“Already done, Sir.”

“Good. Set us down on water and send an aircraft out to bring them in.”

“Blaine too, sir?”

“Think you can keep your boy out of the way if I let him on my ship, Stark?”

Tony suppressed a smirk, “You won’t even know he’s here.”

“Then yes, Coulson, Blaine too.”

*

This was the _coolest thing ever_. People Blaine had never seen before had burst in and pointed weapons at Mister Loki, which was _kinda_ scary but Blaine was a Stark and Starks didn’t get scared, not ever. A man had knelt down next to him and said that Blaine could call him Mike and asked him if he wanted to go and see his dad, and _of course_ Blaine wanted to see his dad. The helicopter ride over, though, that was even better than when Uncle Rhodey let him sit up front when he flew planes around.

Mr Phil met him when Mike helped him off the helicopter. Mr Phil was possibly the best babysitter ever, purely because he told the greatest Captain America stories _ever_.

“Hi, Mr Phil!” Blaine beamed.

“Hello, Blaine,” Coulson greeted, “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you, how’re you?”

“I’m wonderful, thank you for asking.”

“Where’s my dad?”

“They just wanted to oversee… something. You come with me and I’ll take you to him, okay?”

“Kay,” Blaine reached up and took Phil’s hand, “This is a really cool boat, Mr Phil.”

“Oh, it gets even cooler than this, trust me.”

“I don’t think it can get any cooler than this, Mr Phil.”

“No? What if I told you Captain America was on board?”

“ _Captain America_?”

“The very same.”

“Sorry, Mr Phil, I don’t believe you.”

*

“ _Blaine_.”

“Hi, Daddy,” Blaine wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck as Tony picked him up, “I went in a _helicopter_.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it was really cool.”

“I’ll bet. You gonna say hi?”

Blaine looked up, noticing for the first time the faces regarding him curiously around the room, “Hello. Oh, hi Tasha! You haven’t been over in a really really long time but I remember ‘cos I’m good at remembering things.”

“You are,” Natasha smiled.

“And at talking consistently, you’re good at that too,” Tony added. Blaine barely heard him, choosing instead to gape at Steve.

“You’re Captain America,” Blaine breathed.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Tony sighed.

“You’re _actual_ Captain America!”

“Sorry, Rogers, he’s kind of a fan.”

“Mr Phil _said_ you were here but I thought he was making it up but he _wasn’t_.”

“Coulson, babysit my son for me?”

“It’s _Captain America_ , daddy. _Captain America!_ ”

“You can call me Steve, it’s okay,” Steve smiled.

“Okay Mister Steve. _Captain America_. Captain America’s my favourite.”

“No, Iron Man’s your favourite.”

“Iron Man doesn’t _count_.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s _you_.”

“Oh, really? Go. Go with Agent Child Corrupter.”

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it; go.”

“But-”

“Go on, be good.”

“Kay.” Tony set Blaine down, nudging him over to Phil.

“Your son’s a Captain America fan boy,” Natasha smirked.

“I know. Parenting’s hard.”

 


End file.
